


slice of cake

by Tarredion



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2016, Birthday Sex, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, M/M, Rimming, mentions of food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarredion/pseuds/Tarredion
Summary: Dan's promised to celebrate Phil with nothing but the best this year.Naturally, he buys himself a new skirt - but it's not just to wear.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	slice of cake

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my wonderful beta, [dayday](https://peggyschuylerbasically.tumblr.com) , without whom this wouldn't have been possible :3

Dan spins on his tiptoes, admiring the rippling of the skirt as it flares outwards, exposing most of his soft, full thighs. The fabric is a stark white colour, in contrast to his skin, and unbelievably smooth to the touch. He couldn’t even have tried to buy a better one. 

Even the design of the pleating is virtually perfect. Not only is it gorgeous on his form, as he likes it, but each section is broad and easy to grip even individually. The way  _ Phil _ prefers.

After all, Dan only owns this specific skirt because he’s promised himself to make his boyfriend’s 29th birthday the best one he’s ever had. He deserves to be celebrated, if only because of how well he’s been handling the current stressors in their lives.

He lets his fingertips dance down his legs as he studies his body in the floor length mirror, tanned from their recent excursion to the sun-kissed lands of Florida.

Dan’s eyebrows rise, surprised at his own fascination with his long, chubby limbs. He’s never been quite happy with the way he looks, but he feels something beyond indifference now. It’s.. strange. 

His feelings around gender roles are no different, which makes it all the more difficult to envision himself walking around in a skirt publicly. In some ways, that reality stings. He rather likes wearing skirts. And rompers. And dresses. Not that he owns any one of the others; not yet.

He smiles sadly at the thought of his own insecurities. It feels almost pathetic to feel bad about himself when millions of people openly appreciate every part of him. Yet it still makes his stomach twist at the thought of so many watching him, judging him.

“Dan?” Footsteps creak in the hallway outside, followed by a click from the lock on the door. “Dan, are you in here?”

The lilt of panic in Phil’s gravelly voice creates prickling goosebumps all the way up his naked arms. He wears them with unbothered pride as he goes to undo the bolt.

It creaks open to show Phil, who freezes on the spot as he lays eyes upon him. Dan smirks at the sight of his slack jaw and his ears tint of red; seeing the effect he has on his boyfriend with such a simple outfit change simply makes his heart race.

Twirling again makes the skirt swoosh extra prettily. “You like it?” he asks, moving lazily side-to-side to keep the flow of the fabric alive.

“Wow.” Phil’s intense gaze makes him flush as it travels down to his hips and thighs. It always does. “I…  _ Wow.” _

“So, you do like it?”

“Uh... yes.” His adam's apple bobs. One of his hands comes up to rest on the side of the hip, nipping at the fabric of the skirt. The other gestures at the evident lack of clothing beyond it. “But why…  _ why _ are you wearing this?”

Dan leans into his touch. “You saw my tweet. I know you did.”

“It didn’t say there was going to be so… so much skin,” Phil says. Then he furrows his brows. “Did it?”

“No, you spoon,” he laughs. “But I did say I was gonna give you cake.”

“...Cake?”

“Yes, Lester,  _ cake.” _

Phil only scrunches up his face even more. “Where in here would you hide a cake?” he questions, and Dan feels the tightening grip of now both hands on his hips. “Anyways, what has your...  _ outfit _ got to do with it?“

There’s a moment of silence. Then Dan’s face ignites, glowing bright red.  _ “Oh my god.” _

“What?”

“Oh my g- You really don’t get it.” Of course Phil doesn’t. It’s not like he’d necessarily been obvious with what he was hinting at, for the sake of keeping most of their audience in the dark.

“I don’t.”

“Cake.” Dan gnaws on his lip in growing embarrassment, voice cracking slightly. “Like, um, that  _ thing- _ Phil. Ass. My ass.” 

When he wiggles in his grasp to emphasize his point, Phil’s eyes darken. Realization washes across his features, mouth agape, his dilating pupils taking up most of Dan’s focus.

“Oh,” he breathes in a sultry tone, crispy and low. The hairs on Dan’s neck stand on end. “Well, that’s… nice. And hot. Really hot. You’re hot.”

He has to swallow before he speaks, something Phil easily notices. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

“What do  _ you _ want me to do?”

“It’s your birthday, you choose.” 

Dan expects Phil to falter like he usually does. Instead, his mouth quirks into a smirk, once again eyeing him up and down. And Dan blushes, not expecting him to take control so soon. 

“Good.” His teasing touch makes Dan want to scream, flattening the skirt near the swell of his butt. “Because looking like this, you’re too impossibly cute not to eat up.”

Their lips collide in a needy kiss, sending him stumbling backwards. Beautiful, long fingers push and pull on the nape of his neck, and he melts into the embrace. He’s needed it. Almost more than he’ll admit; almost more than he knows Phil does.

Despite his need for more friction than such, he bucks his hips recklessly into Phil’s, his own half-hard cock meeting his boyfriend's growing bulge. Based on his hitched breathing, which by god is beautiful, he knows he has the power to make him come right there if he wants to... and that makes it all the more exciting.

Adrenaline rushes through his veins, a moan slipping into Phil’s mouth as retaliation for the hands that fumble beneath the skirt, searching and exploring. 

Dan swears loudly. Their knees hit the edge of the bed, forcing them apart. “Fuck, move it. Please. I need- I need-” 

“Need what?”

He can’t hide the whine in his voice. “-you.”

When sprawled out on the covers, Phil can’t quite see what’s going behind him. He makes that abundantly clear, just like every other time, complaining more frequently the longer it takes for Dan to situate himself, who shuffles only to taunt him. He can barely keep his laughter at bay, well aware of what it’s doing to him. What it always does to him.

Kneeling, knees spread and thighs flush to the mattress, Dan decides the urging is quite enough. He crawls a few inches forward, chafing against the duvet. 

The skirt, too, flows prettily around him, billowing like a crystal pool and covering all of Phil’s head once he’s above it. It’s smooth on his skin even as he moves shakily, and that’s all he could’ve asked for. 

Phil’s breath brushes hot and bristly against Dan’s taint, making him squirm. His cock visibly twitches, creating a bulge in the fabric of the skirt, but it’s nothing to the reaction formed by Phil’s hands on his thighs. They dig into the skin, cold against the flush of heat, goosebumps flaring up all the way down his legs. He shudders visibly with desire, just barely able to keep his body elevated.

Phil gnaws tenderly on his cheeks, then licks a cold stripe from the base of his tight balls up to his hole. 

Giggles escape across his lips. “Eager, are we?”

Yet another bite. “How could I not be, love,” Phil muffles. “Always irresistible. And this-” the pleats move “-doesn’t fucking help.” 

Dan’s stomach twists with warmth, a mixture of pride and fondness and attraction. He shakes it off, face pink, but the effect still lingers. His back straightens out, the weight supported on his arms just a little lighter.

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

“What do we say?”

_ “Ugh. _ Please?”

Phil pulls him down by the edges of the skirt ‘til he properly straddles his face, hole square on his mouth. Sits on it, literally, and it feels palatable. 

All he  _ can _ feel is the heat of him flat against his ass and the faint kisses of his unmoving, plump lips, the sensation enveloping all of his mind. The appreciative hums against the sensitive skin is enough to make him jerk, too, overbearing and crafted with mastery.

They start slow. Dan grinding back and forth as Phil laps and licks, asshole tensing and convulsing and sparking with electricity, both pick up pace the needier his little whimpers become. Whimpers Phil loves.

Heat springs up around his bottom and thighs, Phil’s tongue the flame igniting him. Droplets of precum drip down his leg, wet and shiny. He barely notices them in comparison.

“Fuckin’ wankshiiii-  _ …mhmmm _ _ ~ _ _ ” _

Surprised at the sudden hotness stretching him, tongue slipping  _ inside _ him, Dan wriggles to better accommodate the movements of the mouth working him. He tries his best to match the pace, literally fucked and eaten out so good it almost hurts, but his mind can no longer form sensible thoughts, a misty haze passing over it.

“Ah ~ Ah _ ~ _ ” His squeals seem feverish.  “Mmm~ So, so good ~ ”

Eyes threatening to roll into the back of his skull, Dan’s hands grab onto Phil’s open collar for dear life as vivid memories of being pounded by his magnificent dick flashes by. He can’t help it. He loves all about Phil, but in bed, he’s practically the god of sex to him.

One little touch and he’s gone.

Familiar hands drag along the inside of his legs, agonizingly slow, making him forget all but vulgar swears and Phil’s wonderful name, heavy on his lips and just  _ amazing _ as he moans it aloud.

Moans that grow rowdy and louder and louder as his tongue rhythmically flexes inside him, not quite hitting his prostate but still doing it for him. And the faster he grinds his asshole down, fucking himself on it, the more it seems to do for his boyfriend, who’s hips automatically fuck upwards, a real glorious sight - his throat goes completely dry, toes curling and white. 

Dan rocks backwards and forwards even harder after that, his sore hole pulsating. His vision blurs, saliva and flesh and Phil’s beautiful face all that’s against and inside him. He loses himself in it, in that closeness, mewling at the tenderness.

_ “Ah _ _ ~ _ _ aah _ _ ~ _ _ ” _

He doesn’t care if all the neighbours hear how loud he is. He almost wants them to. Wants them to hear how good Phil treats him, fucks him, and how good he treats Phil back.

_ “Ah _ _ ~ _ _ Ah _ _ ~ _ _ ” _

With each wavy movement, each sound, beads of glittering sweat form on his brow, pleasure spiking through him like the rush of downing alcohol.

_ “A _ _ ~a _ _ h! _ Fuck, _ Phi-il _ _ ~ _ _ ”  _

Phil’s nails dig into Dan’s side, the opposite hand coming up to his clothed crotch. Dan watches with fascination and flimmering eyes as Phil palms himself to finish, pressing all his own weight down with his bottom to feel a similar kind of friction, coming undone at the same time, cock pulsating with warmth.

_ “Ah _ _ ~  _ _ Phiiiilll _ _ ~” _

Cum spills all over the skirt, sheets, and Phil’s shoulders and neck, followed by a jerk of his body and muffled swears leaving Phil’s mouth beneath his throbbing ass. The wetness of his tongue slips out and away but teeth still claw and bite amorously at his bruising skin, sending rushes of hot and cold and  _ everything _ at the same time up his arms and legs, vision flashing white.

Fucking hell, he feels as good as he always does but the sensation still somehow surprises him. In a fantastic, arousing way.

… he’s got a bloody great tongue, too.

Dan’s breathing is uneven and sharp. He uses any and all of that spared breath to bounce a few final times atop Phil’s puckered lips, bottom jiggling and skirt jumping as he delivers the last drops of sexual gratification and fervor the birthday lad has been promised he’ll get. 

Phil’s movements, however, don’t stop despite exhaustion. His hands roughly tug him back down, taking his balls in his mouth from above, softly sucking on them as Dan bobs in response. A faint, dazed smile and the arching of his back flaunts exactly what he thinks about that, the wet sound filling his ears mind and memory.

Nevertheless, it’s eventually enough. Dan crawls aside to help his boyfriend struggle out of his soaking skinny jeans, but not before noticing his firm cock springing up.

Dan pulls his boxers down while pumping his shaft, kissing him softly through the second orgasm, fingers digging with equal prowess into the waistband of the skirt. Hot, white liquid gushes out across the stomach of his boyfriend’s birthday suit and runs down their rutting thighs, sticky and amazing and so fucking sexy he can’t pry his eyes away.

“F-fuck,” he groans, the spicy, slightly citrusy coffee taste of purely  _ Phil _ against his parting mouth. “F-fuck, l-love you, so much.” 

Hips hump his, skin on skin tingling with the reminiscence of pleasure. Then Phil wraps him in his arms, pulling him close, chapped lips still touching his own.

They lay panting and wet and kinda gross on the covers, unable to find words. Whether Dan’s got his brains fucked out of him or he’s just blissfully stunned.. it doesn’t matter how. He’s dead silent, staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

Phil prods him after a little while, poking his cheeks and his flank. “You alive?” he asks, smile cheeky and fond. “Alive, Dan, are you alive alive alive?”

Dan’s face breaks out into an equally intoxicating smile, giggling softly and eyes crinkling. ‘Course he’s alive. He’s breathing. That constitutes as alive, right? 

He resists the urge to call Phil dummy quite easily. Then another thought passes his mind, and he’s too much of a cheeky little shit (Phil’s own words) to pass it up.

After all, an opportunity like this comes only a couple of times a year. One, maybe two if he’s lucky enough. 

“H-ey Philly?”

“Hm?” He’s pulled into a tight, easily acceptable hug. “What?”

Dan giggles again. “Well,” he says, face subtly pink. “Happy birthday ~”

Phil raises his eyebrows, smile blinding him. He can sense Dan’s up to something; always can, always will.  _ “And?” _

He thinks for a little while, then boops Phil’s nose with the hand not squashed under his side. “Only telling if you stay quiet, babe.”

“‘Course,” Phil sighs, though his eyes are still crinkled and wild. “Bossing me around-”

“Quiet!” 

He purses his lips, faking a pout, and it makes Phil chuckle aloud. 

“Fine.”

_ “Ugh.” _

Head burrowed in Phil’s collar bone, Dan breathes shallow breaths onto his course skin, smirking just a bit. A moment or two passes by, Phil seemingly forgetting the purpose of his actions but still staying mute as he softly looks around, even as palms drag all the way up his side.

Dan presses his grinning mouth flush to his hairy chest, concealing his blushy cheeks in the dark, and slides his hands behind Phil’s back. He gently grasps, folding his fingers over his freckled shoulders, then gingerly laughs. 

“Liked your present?” he murmurs and sighs, lip caught between his teeth for just a second afterwards. “Wrapped it myself.”

There’s a second of thick silence in the air.

Then Phil snorts.

And _laughs._

He shakes against him, warm billowing chortles filling the room, heart drumming hard within his chest. It’s infectious, and once Dan starts too, he can’t stop.

It’s dumb. It’s really fucking stupid but he loves it.

_ “Wrapped it- wrapped it myself!? _ Oh my god,  _ Dan!  _ Why- ho- how- why- h-  _ why _ would you say that!?”

A strong push sends Dan off his chest and over the edge of the bed, still cackling. 

He shrieks when he hits the floor, bumping his elbow into the frame, but it doesn’t hurt any longer than that. He rolls over onto his back, waiting until Phil’s tousled black hair peeks over, looking for him. 

Phil’s blue eyes peer down upon him. He glares back, scowling. “I should’ve made you give the present back,” he scolds, flattening the creases in the skirt with his hands. 

Phil does his little tongue thing, utterly adorable, barely suppressing another laugh. “You know, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well Phil you really should’ve- wait, why?”

His face grimaces. “You said it was a cake that you were giving me, and now it’s all eaten up…” he says, then adds; “It was delicious, by the way, you should serve it more often.”

Dan’s flattered. Very very flattered. And yet he drops his head into his hands, bright pink. 

“Oh  _ shut up and go to hell.” _

_ “ _ Gladly.” There’s a certain confidence in his voice - Dan can already tell what he’s going to say, and is suddenly mortified. “If it means more slices of this.”

He earns a whack for that.

And an idea for a witty twitter reply.

And for better or worse, another round later that night. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated :P
> 
> [reblog here](https://tarredion.tumblr.com/post/623150318049460224/slice-of-cake)
> 
> [see the moodboard here](https://tarredion.tumblr.com/post/623147213123616768/moodboard-for-my-new-fic-slice-of-cake-rated-e)


End file.
